


Thunder In Heaven

by zipandzap95



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale whump, Aziraphale's Bookshop, Drunkenness, First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Crowley, Rain, Thunderstorms, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipandzap95/pseuds/zipandzap95
Summary: "Aziraphale despised thunder storms, ever since the moment that it was created. He hated the sound, and he hated how he trembled from just the sound of it. This was, of course, only a fear for little human children, so out of embarrassment, he hasn't told anyone about his childish phobia. Not human acquaintances, and certainly not his best friend Crowley."------Aziraphale is scared of the thunderstorm outside. He feels better once Crowley comes along.





	Thunder In Heaven

Another strike of thunder rumbled through the entire floor, shaking dust from the bookshelves and sprinkling it onto the ground. Aziraphale hunched over even more, the panic settling deep within him.

Aziraphale despised thunder storms, ever since the moment that it was created. He hated the sound, and he hated how he trembled from just the sound of it. This was, of course, only a fear for little human children, so out of embarrassment, he hasn't told anyone about his childish phobia. Not human acquaintances, and certainly not his best friend Crowley.

The demon would simply bend over laughing if he'd find out about Aziraphale's fear. That's why whenever the angel sensed a storm brewing over London, he'd cancel all of his plans and cover himself overnight in his bookshop, or wherever he'd be at the time (he had had to do something before the start of the twenty-first century before his bookshop opened).

Now Aziraphale was alone in the dead of night, watching the raindrops practically pound onto the pavement outside, running down the glass on the windows like little white rivers of death. Shaking, Aziraphale tugged the blankets closer around himself.

Oh what a fool, what a fool am I, he thought, as he closed his eyes, shying away from the scene.

A pounding knock echoed at the door, and just then, a bolt of lightning lit the sky and the doorstep of Aziraphale's shop.

A figure was standing there, a human, wet and hunched over in his standing position, and the bizarre shadow startled Aziraphale into a small cry. He squinted through the door.

Who could it be at this hour?

The human continued to knock, and it was starting to become louder than the thunder outside.

"Aziraphale!" a familiar voice yelled just then. "Angel! Let me in!"

"Crowley?" Aziraphale said to himself. It wasn't a human at all, then. What a relief!

Aziraphale gulped nervously as he wrapped the blankets closer around himself. He got up from the floor.

"I'm coming!" he called, and he hid his blankets on a nearby chair.

The angel rushed toward the door, and threw it open, revealing his best friend Crowley, the demon, leaning hard against the outpost by the entrance to the shop. His red hair was now dully colored and wet, and his usually sharp jacket was sagged and dripping onto the carpet.

As soon as the door was open, Crowley stepped beside Aziraphale, letting himself in through the entrance, leaving the angel to close the door behind them.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "What in Heaven's name are you doing here?"

Crowley had already helped himself to a cup of tea, and was sipping it as he sat spread out in a wooden chair by the fireplace. His yellow snake-eyes looked over Aziraphale while he casually sipped his tea.

"Well," Crowley said in his usual boisterous way. "I knew that something must be wrong when you'd cancelled our weekly trip to the Ritz, and you didn't pick up my calls. So I got bored and came to see you."

"You came here to check up on me?"

"No, no, no, didn't you hear me? I said I was bored!"

"Ah, right, yes, that you did."

Crowley let out a sigh, and he set his teacup down onto the table. Another strike of thunder lit up the sky outside, sounding throughout the room, and Aziraphale flinched hard, letting out a cry, covering his eyes as if he'd been burnt.

"Angel? Angel? Hey." Crowley said, and suddenly, the demon was standing up and walking toward him. "Hey, hey, look at me! Angel!"

The sky went white again, and Aziraphale trembled, and his breath seemed to be all but lost. He was scared nearly to death.

Aziraphale then felt his arm being grabbed onto, and he felt his body being led to a chair, sitting down.

"Aziraphale," Crowley was saying, and by the use of his real name, the angel looked up to meet the eyes of the demon in front of him.

If there was one thing on Earth that Aziraphale never believed, it's the concern that was in the supposedly evil and snake-like eyes that were currently staring into his blue ones. Unable to quite handle this bit of heat, Aziraphale turned away.

"I'm sorry, Crowley," Aziraphale muttered, and he buried his face into his hands. "I'm just acting like a little child, I know. I...don't know what is wrong with me."

"Are you scared of thunderstorms?" Crowley questioned, and he let out a laugh."Well why didn't you tell me? An angel scared of thunderstorms? That's the best thing that I've heard since-"

Then Crowley got a look of his best friend's face, and it was white as a sheet. The angel's usually strong and sure stature was shaking, and his hands were clutching onto his knees like a lifeline.

The demon immediately stopped joking, and he looked at the angel questioningly, bordering on serious.

"What's wrong with you, Angel?" Crowley said, which is basically as soft as the demon could be. "You're not actually this uptight about a thunderstorm are you?"

"Oh do shut up, Crowley," Aziraphale snapped, his eyes not meeting the demon's. "It's not actually like I want to be like this, you know."

"Then why are you?" Crowley chuckled. "What's so scary about a some little flash in the sky?"

"Because it reminds me of when you fell."

Crowley shut up. Aziraphale was still hunched over in his chair. Still staring at the floor.

"It was absolutely dreadful, Crowley," Aziraphale murmured. "And the flash of white light and all that. The thunder makes me think that it's happening again. That something is happening again and I can't be there to stop it. I can't...be there to help."

Crowley grit his teeth. Against all control, he had just felt a wash of affection for the poor angel in front of him, and it was all he could do to plant a small kiss on the angel's lips.

Instead, Crowley said, "You're seriously afraid, aren't you, Angel?"

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, and he immediately straightened up. Plastered a smile on his face.

"Well. It's nothing I can't handle. Please. You can leave if you wish. I'll be alright, trust me."

"You'll be here alone all night, Angel. I should stay."

"I don't want you to see me like this."

At that, Crowley stood up and walked away from Aziraphale, and the angel's face fell.

But then Crowley knelt down in front of the fireplace, and placed another log onto the fire. The demon turned around to face his Angel with a stern look on his face.

"Oh, I'm staying, Angel. Now bring out the wine."

/

Aziraphale didn't know how they ended up on the couch a few hours later, but here they were in front of the fireplace, with Crowley's arm practically wrapped around Aziraphale's shoulders, and the angel himself nearly cuddling right up against the demon's side. The bottle of wine that they had opened not long ago had almost been empty, and the thunder had seemed to have taken a break.

Now, the two were only left with the crackling of fire, the sound of the rushing rain outside, and each other.

Crowley seemed to be exceptionally quiet tonight, almost relaxed. Aziraphale didn't know what exactly had gotten into the demon, but he found that he actually couldn't care less. Because the demon was warm and made for an unusually good pillow.

Crowley was a lot of things; devastatingly handsome, kind, funny, sassy, cunning, interesting. But the angel never took to think that the Crowley he was so deeply in love with could actually be a pillow.

"What is it you're thinking about, Angel?" Crowley asked, his voice slurred from the wine that they had had. It was only then that the angel realized that he was grinning, and perhaps the demon could feel that on his chest.

"Nothing at all, Crowley. Just tired, is all," the angel sighed, and looked up into Crowley's eyes, convinced that they were closed.

But Crowley's eyes were in fact open, his yellow eyes bright, and the look in the demon's eyes was something intense. Aziraphale looked away.

"I'm certainly glad everything worked out all right," the angel said, trying to fill the silence. "What with Adam, and the Apocolypse getting cancelled and all that. I suppose that we got lucky, wouldn't you say Crowley?"

Aziraphale looked up at the demon again, and this time, Crowley seemed to be a lot closer than he was the last time. Aziraphale gulped. His heart was hammering in his chest. It was only now that he realized how close together their faces were.

"I-I,...ah,... better get that other bottle," the Angel stammered, his face red. Immediately, he stood up, and walked away from the demon, heading to the back of the store.

But as Aziraphale turned around, Crowley reached out and tugged the angel back down again, and now Aziraphale was kneeling over Crowley, one leg on each side of Crowley's thigh, and their faces were so close together. And Crowley had that look in his eyes again, looking at the angel up and down, like he was searching him.

"Crowley, I...what, ah...what are you doing?" Aziraphale asked, voice trembling.

"Just trust me, Angel," Crowley whispered against the angel's mouth, and, very very carefully, closed the distance between them.

Aziraphale kept his eyes open the whole time, his hands clutching on to Crowley's shoulders, and his breath hitching somehow in his throat. Crowley's hands were on the angel's hips, keeping him there, and Aziraphale could feel Crowley's heartbeat through his clothes.

Then Crowley slowly pulled away, and he opened his eyes and he looked up at Aziraphale.

For a second, neither of them did anything at all. It was like they didn't know exactly what to do now.

So Aziraphale pushed Crowley's shoulders into the back of the sofa and kissed him, drawing a surprised gasp from the demon underneath him. Crowley's hands immediately hiked up Aziraphale's jacket, grabbing on to the angel's bare skin to tug him closer. The demon's head was tilted up, desperately trying to get as much of the angel that he could possibly reach.

Aziraphale's hands slid up from Crowley's shoulders and into his hair, holding each side of his face still, their noses squishing a little bit against each other's as Crowley's tongue poked and played at the angel's teeth.

When they finally broke apart, they stared into each other's eyes, and they each huffed out a laugh. Crowley's palm was pressed to the back of Aziraphale's neck so their noses and foreheads were nearly touching.

As Aziraphale brushed a thumb against Crowley's cheekbone, the angel asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me, my dear?"

"I've been trying to for the last six thousand years, Angel," Crowley replied with a grin. "This seems to have been the most effective, hasn't it?"

Aziraphale smiled, and he planted a soft kiss to the demon's lips before the angel got up from the couch and walked away.

Crowley stared after him with confusion. Why is his angel walking away? Did he do something wrong?

But then Aziraphale looked behind him, staring right into Crowley's eyes.

"Well are you coming or not, my dear?"

Crowley grinned, and he stood up, leaving the wine bottle behind on the table as he followed Aziraphale to the room, and closed the door behind them.


End file.
